The Wistful Dinner

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2026-08-24 16:54:43 -

Act I Did the ink ever truly come from the pen, or did it simply wait for the lung to crack open? Thanasis Zafeiriou, forty-five years old and mid-level clerk in the Ministry of Culture, stood before the mirror in the staff room, watching a black smear bloom across the collar of his white shirt. It was not blood, he told himself, though the taste in his mouth was metallic and cold, like licking...

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